


Sexscapade

by TownOfHypocrisy



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Desire, F/M, Forbidden Love, Force Bond (Star Wars), Jealousy, Longing, Love, Lust, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Mind Reading, Obsession, Orgasm Control, Passion, Sex Addiction, Sexual Tension, Soul Bond, Soul Sex, Telepathy, Yearning, star-crossed lovers, twin flames
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-23 00:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12494072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TownOfHypocrisy/pseuds/TownOfHypocrisy
Summary: A series of ficlets depicting the all-consuming desire between Rey and Kylo Ren





	1. Chapter 1

He eases himself into her, rock-hard and painful in the need to own her, possess her. He takes pride as he elicits each mewl, each moan, and adds it to the vault of his memories and the trophy cabinet of his ego. But she’s much more than a conquest, he muses, as he fucks her passionately on the black spread of pooling bedsheets. She’s _his_ , and his alone, and his straining cock is a lesson to remind her each time she forgets, each time she laughs in another man’s company.

Of course, he never tells her that it’s her re-education. She’s too lost in the sensation of him being inside her to care, and actions always speak louder than words. Actions of her screaming form arched toward him, and her legs wrapped clingingly around his waist, and her nails raking down his back, and of how desperately she clenches around him, because he just feels _“too good”._

And he loves dominating her. Loves toying with her independence, and allows her to live in the illusion of her having it. But subconsciously, deep down, he knows she wants to be controlled by him. It’s why she strings each poor boy up like a line of washing and parades them for him to see. It’s a bait he can never resist, as he locks her wrists into place above her head and proceeds to have his wicked way with her.

He knows she loves it.

 

And he loves her.


	2. Chapter 2

Between curling toes and glazed over eyes she wonders what this is. With each claiming thrust, tries to anchor a waning rationale to one word. Three swarm her mind.

**Lust**

**Limerence**

**Love**

She has three of her very own — more a confession that a list — hanging on breathy lips, locked and loaded from a racing heart as it pounds in time to his own. It's the rhythm that they move to: of intertwined limbs and searing kisses and the tantalising press of skin so intimate that he might as well be under her own. Though being inside her is enough she thinks, if not too much, as she struggles to hold on to her tether of reality through the white-knuckled grasp of bedsheets.

Somewhere in the headiness of ecstasy, she's vaguely aware of the delicious slap of their flesh. And it's as if he's sensed this distance, because her chin is being lowered to meet his gaze: to meet storm and intensity and such _burning_ desire that she's melting under it, yielding and pouring into its vast coal tar depths.

He knows all of this of course.

She can feel it the cocky curve of his lips as he moves against her, and see it in the smug glint of his eyes when he thinks she's not looking.

He drives her up the wall — literally. And she's never known how to keep still either. So instead, like a puppet on the strings of his whim, she writhes under him; dances to each pluck of nerve and sings to his orchestration.

And she blames it all on the cursed force-bond through the _"_ _Fuck, YES"_ of moaning. Knows to admit anything otherwise would send her over the edge.

And he pushes her over it. Several times without fail.

Won't grant her release until he's heard it bequeathed from her lips.

**Lust**

**Limerence**

**Love**

Are now nothing more than stars in her vision.

The brightest one blinds her, bathes her in white as its hot essence fills her up. She feels whole in these moments, and realises from the fathomless depths of his gaze, that she's known all along.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Amongst the throngs of whores and the sleepless nights, he imagines her. It's not the delights of human flesh that he seeks, but intimacy. Intimacy that a thousand women could not fill from the hole she'd left behind.

Again, his eyes slip closed, and he feels out her force signature: an inexhaustible flame in his psyche. And like her temper, it burns strongly, resolutely.

_Perfect_

He awakes from his meditation to find a cloaked form huddled at the other end of his chambers. With a gloved hand he beckons her over and observes his conquest for the night.

She's 21, slim and tanned. Has a well-defined and athletic build — not too curvaceous — but with full round breasts and perky nipples that poke out through the thin sheet of concealing black.

He lets slip the offending article from her shoulders and watches as it soundlessly pools as a cocoon around her feet.

She crosses her arms around her from the cold, and he inspects her further. Noting the hazel spun silk of hair fixed as 3 buns along the back of her head. He sighs audibly at that, and he can tell his visitor feels the force of it reverberate around the chamber.

The only thing he can't look at is her eyes. Where there should be fire, there is instead submission, demure even. He wonders whether he could tame Rey's spirit to such an extent; wonders whether he could make her as compliant and willing as the girl that shivers before him.

The thought makes him grow hard.

He can already smell her arousal, and he leads her to his ebony four-poster bed where she sits expectantly like a porcelain doll. He's torn between wanting to bend her over or having her under him, and decides on the latter.

She looks at him adoringly, and he takes this cue as perfect opportunity to connect with Rey's force signature and transmit everything that was about to take place. All that she was resisting, missing out on, she would now be unable to block out.

He'd grown tired of her mask of indifference and her stubborn investment in the naïve belief that the Light side of the Force was the right way. Truly, it was only a piece of the wider whole. He hated the fanatic elders who'd convinced her of this indoctrination. And, knowing that he was inevitably bound to her deeper than mere mind and feelings, he sought to release her.

He could already feel the prickle of her annoyance, and tried to hide the crude smile that was slowly building across his face, as he saw quickly to lavishing the girl sprawled wantonly across his bed with kisses. Starting with her cheek and trailing down across the line of her jaw, he is deliberate, meticulous in his display, as his dips down her further to the strain of her collar bone to stop at her breasts. The girl in question is already a sweaty mess of desperation, but he sucks and swirls his tongue around her nipples skilfully, laboriously, savouring Rey's rising jealousy that she does not herself recognise.

Oh, she has yet to truly understand the sentiment.

Capitalising on this emotion, he swiftly inserts two fingers into her weeping sex and watches as she writhes in time to his merciless strokes. She's a flush slave of his ministrations and it's that point that he decides to test something.

With mock affection, he brushes the matted strands of her hair from her face and feels a sudden undeniable pang in the force.

He knows he shouldn't be tormenting her like this, but a dark part of him revels in the calamity of her emotions and for once, the selfish indulgence of his own.

When he feels her clenching tighter, he withdraws and positions himself above his target, sinking into her and letting out a guttural groan as he mixes Rey's force signature with the soft enveloping heat around his cock. If he robs himself of the sense of sight, he can almost convince himself that it's her. Her soft frim mounds under the massage of his hands, her deep moans and slight whimpers, and the way her body vibrates in ecstasy beneath him. He can almost imagine that it's her legs and arms wrapped around him possessively, endearingly. That it's Rey that opens to him so willingly, and accepts all of him so readily. In this stranger he dreams of home and the haven that is Rey. And she, wistfully in some backwater planet in the Outer Rim, dreams of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't help myself with this one xD Yes, I love cock-teasing xD xD

She knows she shouldn’t be doing this but she can’t stop the wildfire running through veins — the all-consuming intensity — and so she surrenders to its superior power.  
He has her pressed against one of the walls inside the hangar, effectively trapping her on both sides with his arms to prevent her escape. Was it 5 minutes or 10 minutes before that she was making her way to pilot her X-wing? She can’t remember. He has a way of doing that to her: warping her sense of time and space. And she’s positive that he’s saying something too, although his words are lost on her. She’s too distracted by his sudden proximity and his heavy cologne. It’s all so very Kylo, and she’s finding she can’t take such a strong dose. She can’t meet his eyes either. Force forbid, that would be suicidal. No, no, she must resist him. But he’s inching closer to her, hot breath on her ear.  
She shudders at the jolt of electricity that runs down her spine and straight to her core, and decides that it’s a red light blazing, siren wailing warning for her TO GET OUT.  
She pushes up against his solid chest and winces as he doesn’t’ so much as flinch. It seemed to have the opposite effect. Instead, she sees a sly grin stretch across his face under impossibly black bangs.  
Now that she had the strength to gather her wits, she noticed that he was indeed leaning into her, over her. His tall broad stature making him incredibly intimidating to say the least.  
“Kylo,” she protested.  
“Ahh, my name. How long has it been since you’ve last called me that?”  
The floor is a very welcome focal point.  
“Thought you could just saunter into here, speak to my commander, and sashay back out?”  
His presence is pushing now, too close… too close.  
“That’s how diplomacy works, Kylo. It is necessary to build the bridges that will then lead to a peaceful foundation for the future co-operation of both of our sides.”  
He looks stricken at that statement, and reels back, relieving her of… of… of.. him.  
He shakes his head.  
“You are naïve, Rey. This conflict runs deeper than blood and flesh and hot tempers. Mere mortals cannot mend the rift spanning generations. Our feud is in the very fabric of the universe itself: the duality of balance…”  
He looks pointedly at her then with those smouldering coal eyes of his — always so damn wise, ancient even.  
“…and they cannot live without the other.”  
She feels these words shake her very bones, and she is goose bumps and entropy all over again.  
“Rey…”  
His voice comes out deep and anguished.  
And she knows right then and there that she is lost.  
“Kylo…I can’t—”  
But she is cut off with a pair of soft lips seizing her own, and contentedly she melts into him, finally. Her legs wobbling and her form shaking from how consuming her feelings are for him. He steadies her with a strong body pressing her up against the durasteel, and wedges his knee between her legs, brushing that sacred part of herself that she so desperately wanted to give to him.  
Suddenly, he is attacking her neck with his mouth and she throws her head back forcefully, hitting the wall but not feeling a thing other than the utter bliss of his touch.  
He’s just too much…  
And she threads her fingers through his thick raven locks, and brings him closer. She wants him badly, so badly, and the heat pooling between her legs is only continuing to worsen. She roams insatiable hands over the broad contours of his shoulders, the muscle of his chest and abs and stops short above his manhood.  
She feels restless, wild for being so risqué out in the open. But at this point, she’s past the point of caring. She needs him. Needs him right now. And so her hands are treacherously feeling for him through the black leather of his trousers, and her cheeks are burning as she gasps at the size of him.  
He growls at the contact and with lightspeed manoeuvre, pins her hands above her head and whispers to her darkly, thickly.  
“You have no idea how mad you make me.”  
And for emphasis, he bucks his hips into her own, and sends her thrashing beneath him.  
“All of this gallivanting you’re doing… to what end?”  
His grip tightens dangerously, and she knows he has the upper hand. And as though reading her mind, he drives the point home further, and binds both her hands with his one, the other, he brings to up her chin and raises it up to his face.  
“Why do you struggle so? When we both know what you really desire?”  
Her core is throbbing painfully by now, and her body, heart and soul scream at her to jump him.  
But oh no, he’s not finished with tormenting her yet.  
He sighed regretfully.  
“I could offer you so much, Rey. Prestige, power, glory, honour…”  
He’s just drawling now, talking nonsensicals to bask in her growing insanity. He knows she’s not interested in any of those things.  
But his tone lowers to that of sincerity.  
“And I can offer you safety, security… my love…. a family.”  
Her eyes grow wide and she doesn’t feel her heart can hammer any harder in her chest.  
He senses this — senses everything — and he lowers his hand from her chin and lays it flat against the swell of her breasts, above her sternum, and rests his head against her own.  
Again, he sighs. She’s getting the feeling he must do it a lot these days. But she’s frozen from reacting, from responding. All she can do is stay rooted to this spot, this one moment in time that’s theirs and theirs alone.  
And it’s tearing her apart, because she knows her soul is wedded to him. In retrospect, she’s known it from their first encounter. The way her body would hum on its own accord from his closeness, or how she’d found herself moaning as he slipped into her mind. These weren’t natural phenomena.  
He had a better sense of it then she did. She was still a child in this vast and unexplored universe of the force. Allegiances forsaken, she realised the real reason she was running away was precisely because she was scared of this unknown, and being seized by a feeling too powerful for her to ever begin to fathom.  
He captured her lips again, and this time it was urgent and desperate and imploring and so very real.  
And she could wait no longer. 

TBC…


End file.
